


Send a flare up in the sky

by shinewithalltheuntold



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Child Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Gen, Physical Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 07:04:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7158833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinewithalltheuntold/pseuds/shinewithalltheuntold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Canon divergent from "Sisters."  What if Zelena had gotten free of the guards and gone back for her sister?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Send a flare up in the sky

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Oparu for listening to my endless babble and assuring me this doesn't suck.

Cora was going to throw her away.

This woman, who had appeared to her in Oz as a savior with her kind face and gentle hands and soft voice and her understanding of magic, was going to send her back. Back to her father. Back to fear and the stench of drink. Back to rage. Back to the switch.

“I’ll be good,” she repeated over and over, ignoring the bite of the guards’ fingers into the soft flesh of her arms as she struggled to get free. If she could only convince Cora of the truth. She would be good. Quiet and obedient. She wouldn’t ask for anything, would take whatever was offered to her gratefully if only she could stay. She didn’t need the fancy dresses and pretty dolls that Regina had grown up with. 

_Oh but you deserve them_ whispered a voice in her head. The same voice that whispered to her the day father yelled and yelled and told her she was wicked and useless before climbing onto his cart to head to town. _If the wheel comes loose as he heads down the hill, he will certainly crash and the yelling will stop._ But she hadn’t listened to the voice, wouldn’t be the wicked thing her father was determined to believe she was. And when he came back that evening, stumbling and cursing and breaking mother’s favorite vase, oh how the voice laughed at her for her foolishness.

Maybe she was wicked. After all, why else would a mother send away her own child? But she didn’t mean to be wicked. She wanted to be good. And she had been, hadn’t she? She’d healed Regina with her magic. A wicked girl couldn’t have done that.

Regina. Her sister. Her little sister who was surely not wicked. After all, Cora hadn’t sent her away. Not Regina, with her kind eyes and mischievous smile and bright laugh. She had overheard one of the servants say that it had been a long time since they had heard Regina laugh so freely, light up a room as she had when she and Zelena sat on her bed playing with Regina’s dolls. _She_ had done that, had been the reason for her little sister’s happiness, and now she would never hear that laughter or feel the warmth of that light again.

“It isn’t FAIR!” Zelena’s anger at the injustice of it all overrode her fear and grief as she finally managed to tear herself from her captors’ grip. An explosion of green burst from her hands and threw the guards forward. Unprepared, they teetered at the top of the stairs for a moment, limbs all tangled together, before tumbling down the steps to the great hall.

Zelena stood at the top of the stair, breath caught in her throat and power coursing through her blood as she stared at the silent figures lying below. She couldn’t see any blood, but one of the guard’s legs was bent at an unnatural angle. Terrified that she had killed them _wicked, you are a WICKED girl_ she started down the steps to see if she could fix what she had done when one of the guards let out a soft moan. She turned and raced back the way she had come. They would follow her, they would tell Cora and being sent away would be the least of her punishment if she was lucky. The voice told her to go back, to step over their broken forms and leave the house before Cora could find out, but she ignored it again. She had to explain. Not to Cora, but to Regina. She didn’t care what the guards thought. What Cora or her father or any of them believed. She just had to make sure her sister knew that it was an accident. With Regina’s love and belief in her, she was certain she could face whatever came next.

“Mother, no!” Regina’s pleading voice echoed down the hall. Zelena raced towards the great room, stopping just outside the first pillar. She dropped softly to her knees, not wanting to alert Cora to her presence right away. She peered inside, her eyes darting past the elegant table and the high back chairs and stopping at the hearth in front of the great fire. There, huddled in the corner, was Regina. Her hair was tangled, her face a tear streaked mess of rouge and shadow and lipstick. She was looking up at Cora with fear filled eyes. Zelena knew those eyes; she had seen them in the mirror every day since her mo-since the woman who raised her had died.

Zelena’s view of her sister was obscured by an elegant red gown and dark waves of hair. Cora’s arm was outstretched, holding something Zelena could not see but appeared to be the source of her sister’s terror.

“I won’t drink it, mother.” Regina’s voice was trembling but filled with defiance. “I _won’t_ forget my sister.”

No. NO. Cora couldn’t do that, could she? Couldn’t make Regina forget her entirely? Zelena remembered her father as she had last seen him, frozen, his arm still raised above his head, switch clutched tightly in his hand. Of course she could. 

Zelena slumped against the pillar. It was hopeless. Cora was powerful, far more powerful than the daughter she was casting aside yet again. There was nothing Zelena could do to stop it. Better to leave now, before someone came across the guards. She dragged herself to her feet, still reluctant to leave Regina but unable to figure a way out of this awful situation.

A crash and an angry cry drew Zelena back into the room. Regina had clearly tried to dart past Cora; she was now struggling against her mother’s grip and there were shards of broken glass at their feet. And then suddenly Regina was in the air, arms pressed tightly to her sides and her feet dangling uselessly a few feet above the ground. There were no ropes that Zelena could see, nothing hanging from the ceiling to pull her sister up. There was only that elegant red gown and those dark waves of hair and that outstretched arm. Cora’s hand clenched and Regina gasped.

“Mother, please.” Regina’s voice was breathy, as though she couldn’t get enough air. As though….oh, gods. Cora was doing that. Cora was holding her daughter, her own child _the one she had cared enough about to keep_ , in the air with magic and was squeezing.

“You know better than to defy me, Regina.” Cora’s voice was ice, and it shivered down Zelena’s spine. “You foolish child, you have no idea what I have sacrificed for you, for your future. I will not allow you to throw it away for something as useless and weak as _love_.”

“Daddy.” Regina’s voice was no more than a terrified whimper, too soft for her father to hear from wherever he was on the large estate. But soft as it was, useless as it was, that one word only increased Cora’s anger. Zelena could still not see Cora’s face, but she could see Regina’s as her mother’s hand clenched again. Regina was beyond tears, beyond everything but fear. Her eyes darted frantically across the room, and when her gaze landed on Zelena, her plea for help was the merest whisper of breath.

“You!”

Zelena was so focused on her sister that she didn’t realize Cora was speaking to her until Regina dropped suddenly to the floor like a discarded doll. Zelena started hesitantly forward, wanting to help Regina, make sure she wasn’t injured even as the voice told her to run and save herself while she had the chance. And then her chance was gone.

“You did this!” Cora stalked towards her, her face an ugly mask of disgust and loathing (or perhaps it was the kind face of her savior that had been the mask all along.) Zelena instinctively backed away towards the hall, but she made it no more than a few steps before Cora’s hand shot out again and Zelena was being dragged forward. Even the harsh grip of the guard’s gloves did not hurt as much as the phantom hands forcing her arms to her sides.

“This is your fault.” Cora’s voice was quieter; Zelena was reminded of the serpents by the river at home, the ones that hissed until they were within striking distance and then went completely silent at the moment they attacked. 

“This is all your fault.” The grip tightened. “You ruined everything. You always ruin _everything_.” Zelena felt it in her chest now. “You made me do this. I wouldn’t have had to hurt her, not like this, if it weren’t for you.” It was becoming so hard to breathe, why was it so hard to breathe? “YOU DID THIS.”

The world was growing dark and hazy around the edges, but Zelena could just make out Regina crawling to her mother’s side and pulling weakly on Cora’s arm. Cora looked down at her daughter with that same twisted expression before swatting Regina’s small hand away with no more effort than she would give a pestering bug. Her gaze focused on Zelena again; the pressure in her chest became unbearable and Zelena was certain this was the end.

But then there was a flash of light, white and purple and so so bright, and a blur of crimson streaking towards the hearth. Zelena heard a sharp crack and then the vise around her was gone. She dropped to her knees, taking in huge gulps of air until the spots dancing in front of her eyes gradually faded and she could take note of her surroundings.

She saw Cora first, lying at the base of the hearth. There was blood dripping down the side of her head but Zelena could see her chest move and knew she was still alive. Still, she had clearly been thrown with great force across the room. For a moment, Zelena wondered if she had summoned her magic in fear for her life, but no. Her magic was green, not that brilliant mix of silver and purple. And since Cora clearly had not done this to herself, that only left…

Regina was doubled over, still in that same spot on the floor. Her face was pale underneath the garish tableau of makeup and tears and she was breathing harshly, her gaze fixed on her hands.

“Regina?” Her voice echoed in the sudden unexpected silence of the room. She tried to stand and make her way to her sister, but her legs did not want to hold her upright. Undeterred, needing to reach Regina, she crawled on hands and knees to her sister’s side. She grasped Regina’s hand and was shocked and hurt when Regina quickly yanked it away.

“It hurts,” the little girl said softly. She gingerly pulled her hands towards her chest, palms open and facing upwards. Regina raised her head and looked at Zelena. “It felt like my hands were burning. Like everything was burning.”

Zelena’s horror at the thought of her sister in pain must have shown on her face because Regina leaned quickly towards her. “It’s okay. It’s getting better already, I promise.”

“Why did you do it? If it hurt so badly, why didn’t you stop?” Regina looked at her, perplexed.

“I couldn’t let her hurt you.” Zelena watched as Regina carefully placed on hand atop hers, wincing slightly as she squeezed. She smiled tearfully. “You’re my sister. We have to protect each other.”

Zelena was speechless. No one had ever stood up for her before. Even the woman who raised her, who was more a mother to her than the woman currently sprawled unconscious in front of a roaring fire, had rarely stood up against her father when he berated her for using her magic. But this girl, this tiny slip of a thing, had risked pain and the threat of reprisal from her extremely powerful and terrifying mother to protect her. 

Regina dropped her hand and looked over to where Cora lay. She had not woken yet, but there was no guarantee that she would remain unconscious for long. She bit her lip and inched instinctively closer to Zelena.

“She’ll punish us.” Her voice was full of certainty and terror. “Both of us, but you especially.”

Zelena nodded. She knew that if she was still here when Cora woke, there would be no escaping the woman’s wrath. But what could she do? Run and leave Regina here to face her mother alone?

“I’ll tell her it’s my fault,” Zelena said impulsively. “I’ll tell her it was my magic that did it.”

“No!” Regina argued. “Even if she believed you, which she won’t, I won’t let you take the blame for what I did.”

“She’s going to punish me, anyway. If we say I did it, perhaps she’ll leave you be. Simply take your memories and not punish you further.”

Regina shook her head. “It’s too late for that. She might just take my memories, but you…I won’t lose you, Zelena. Not when we’ve just found each other.”

“Then what do we do?” Zelena was trying not to panic, but she was so far over her head that not even the voice was there to advise her. This was all her fault, and now Regina was going to suffer for it. Father was right. She was wicked.

But then Regina’s hand was on hers arm, tugging her up until they were both standing. Regina looked one last time at Cora before turning back to Zelena.

“We run.” Regina held out her hand, her face full of fire and determination. “Together.”

It was foolish. Zelena wasn’t even from this world, and Regina, by her own admission, was rarely allowed on the grounds alone, much less out in the world. But looking at her sister, she knew it was the only way. Moreover, some small part of her believed that despite everything, they might actually be able to do it. Either way, they had to try.

So Zelena nodded, reached out and took her sister’s hand firmly in her own, and together they fled into the gathering dusk.

**Author's Note:**

> So as I was watching the episode I couldn't help thinking that things would have been a lot different between Zelena and Regina if Cora hadn't erased their memories. And this was supposed to just be a one-off that hinted at that idea. But of course my brain couldn't leave it alone and it's now this huge plotty fic monster that I am hoping to actually write instead of just endlessly bug my friends talking about. If not, I still feel like this works pretty well as a stand alone, even if I left it rather open-ended.


End file.
